Nemesis
March 06, 2015
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In checking the grid position sheets for the Gen X Superbike race, I come upwards upon 1 other EX500 inward the ranks, along amongst the FZRs too Honda Hawks I mentioned before. I assume I volition musical rhythm out that EX handily, every bit I cause got several others already this season. My supposition would hold upwards wrong, thus incorrect inward fact that this would signify the get-go of a rivalry to in conclusion the residue of the season, too nigh hold upwards my undoing. For directly I remained blissfully ignorant of the struggles to come.
Eyes narrowed to slits watching for whatsoever twitch from the flagman, thus the race finally begins. I larn a adept start, 4th about off of the line. The leaders are close, but I am besides jaded to cause got promise that I tin hang amongst them. As nosotros circular Turn 3, the infamous Keyhole, too onto the dorsum straight, my cynicism proves correct. Given the adventure to stretch their legs the Hondas too Yamahas are gone, a twain of tiresome starters making their way yesteryear me every bit well, including the goddamn EX. The wheel that I am supposed to musical rhythm out without missing a musical rhythm out is directly inward front end of me, too pulling ahead.
Try every bit I mightiness I cannot select handgrip of that stupid Kawasaki. I stare at his tail department inward disbelief every bit this wheel too unknown passenger give-up the ghost the objects of my focused hatred. To hold upwards beaten yesteryear faster machines is 1 thing, but I turn down to convey that a wheel on equal basis amongst mine tin outrun me. That agency it is purely my mistake too my riding is sub-par. The race ends amongst me inward a lousy 6th house too the other EX500 merely ahead inward fifth. A long, restless nighttime follows amongst a lot of someone searching, trying to figure out if I had it inward me to musical rhythm out him tomorrow.
Ball's got balls, no doubt. Could I musical rhythm out him on the minute day?
Eyes narrowed to slits watching for whatsoever twitch from the flagman, thus the race finally begins. I larn a adept start, 4th about off of the line. The leaders are close, but I am besides jaded to cause got promise that I tin hang amongst them. As nosotros circular Turn 3, the infamous Keyhole, too onto the dorsum straight, my cynicism proves correct. Given the adventure to stretch their legs the Hondas too Yamahas are gone, a twain of tiresome starters making their way yesteryear me every bit well, including the goddamn EX. The wheel that I am supposed to musical rhythm out without missing a musical rhythm out is directly inward front end of me, too pulling ahead.
Try every bit I mightiness I cannot select handgrip of that stupid Kawasaki. I stare at his tail department inward disbelief every bit this wheel too unknown passenger give-up the ghost the objects of my focused hatred. To hold upwards beaten yesteryear faster machines is 1 thing, but I turn down to convey that a wheel on equal basis amongst mine tin outrun me. That agency it is purely my mistake too my riding is sub-par. The race ends amongst me inward a lousy 6th house too the other EX500 merely ahead inward fifth. A long, restless nighttime follows amongst a lot of someone searching, trying to figure out if I had it inward me to musical rhythm out him tomorrow.
Ball's got balls, no doubt. Could I musical rhythm out him on the minute day?